Hunt of the Bandham (The Bowl of Souls: Book Three) (20 page)

“There’s somethin’ else son,” Lenny remarked. He pointed out over the river. “Looks like the shallows extend all the way to the other side as far as I can see, but it’s gonna be rough goin’. You see them rocks, in the water there? There’s a crossable path between the boulders, but the currents’re gonna be strong and the water could still be purty deep in spots.”

“Do we need to find another place to cross?” Justan asked, eyeing the water with concern.

“Nah, the horses’ll get us across I think. But it won’t be easy on ‘em.”

“It’s not just the horses we need to worry about,” Qyxal reminded. “The water is going to be freezing cold and with Fist being ill, I don’t know if we can afford to cross it right now.”

“Then we should wait until he feels better,” Justan said. “That should give us the time to figure out how best to cross anyway. Qyxal, would it help if-?”

They were interrupted by a crash in the forest not too far away. Justan turned and saw a tree move at the top of the incline. The giant’s voice cried out in triumph. He must have found their trail at his territory’s edge. Justan’s stomach dropped.

“Aw hell! Dag-burned dirt-eater’s determined to make us kill him,” Lenny growled.

“Saddle up!” Justan said. “Sorry Fist, we need to keep going. Can you stand?”

The ogre rose to his feet on shaky legs. “I can fight.”

“What do we do?” Qyxal asked. “I don’t have enough magic left in me to cast that spell we spoke about and we are too tired to fight. We could retreat and come back later, but he could just sit out here on the shoreline waiting for us and we might never get across.”

“We have few choices.” Justan said. “We could go downstream out of his range and come back to fight him later, or go even further down and try to find a place to cross elsewhere, or-.”

“Ha! Thought you could get away did you?” Charz boomed. He was making his way down the incline and Justan knew that he would be upon them soon.

Was it really a good idea to come back later and fight him again? The giant knew their tactics now and Justan couldn’t give Fist any more firewater. Qyxal’s spell could possibly kill the giant, but what if it didn’t work? If they traveled downstream further would they find another crossing as good as this one? He didn’t know.

“We start across now.” Justan decided. He pointed at the markings on the trees at the edge of the forest. “His territory ends here! He shouldn’t be able to follow us into the river.”

They galloped down the bank and into the water. Lenny and Qyxal took the lead followed by Fist. Justan and Gwyrtha came behind him. Justan wanted to make sure the ogre didn’t falter and get swept away. Lenny kept them on the best possible path he could find through the shallows, weaving through the boulders and never letting the water get more than a couple feet deep, but the rocks were slippery and the water swift, making the footing treacherous. If one of the horses broke a leg, they were in deep trouble.

The water was so cold that there were still pieces of ice floating in it from the colder weather upstream. Fist and Gwyrtha were both miserable. The ogre was shivering already and the water hadn’t reached his knees yet. Justan was just beginning to think he had made the worst possible decision when the first boulder fell.

Charz had found them. The giant stood on the shoreline taunting them and picking up more rocks. His wounds were still fairly grievous. The giant was limping and one shoulder still had a gaping wound from Ma’am’s last arrow strike. He must have somehow forced the magic to heal his legs just enough to get him mobile before he came after them. Why he wasn’t healed completely by now, Justan had no idea.

They had only made it a quarter of the way across the river and there was no way to hide or dodge the incoming rocks. They were fortunate that the giant’s accuracy was affected by his injuries and none of his throws had hit their marks. They continued to make their way as quickly as they could through the water with boulders splashing all around them.

One of Charz’s boulders landed not a foot from Fist. The ogre slipped and fell forward and the swift current nearly pulled him into the deeper water. He was able to struggle back to his feet, but his already bruised and battered body expended a lot of energy to do so. Both he and Squirrel were now soaked with the icy water. Squirrel was quite indignant about it too, chattering up a storm.

Justan told Gwyrtha to stop and turn to face the shore. He pulled Ma’am from his shoulder and cocked back an arrow just as Charz released another boulder. From the arc of the shot, Justan could tell that Lenny and Qyxal were in serious danger. He let his thoughts and emotions go, focused on the target, and released. The boulder disappeared into a cloud of rock and dust mid-flight.

The time for mercy had passed. The giant would have to die. Justan pulled back another arrow and aimed between Charz’ eyes. The look on Charz’s face stopped him. He no longer looked triumphant or cocky. He seemed so desperate, so afraid to lose that Justan felt a sense of pity twang within him. Suddenly it felt wrong to kill him. Justan changed his target at the last second.

The elbow on the giant’s throwing arm exploded in a shower of flesh and rock. The boulder he was about to throw fell to the ground and his forearm now dangled uselessly at his side. Charz’s scream of agony echoed across the water, causing the rest of the party to look behind them.

“Yeah! Got the dag-blasted rock-biter!” Lenny cried.

 Justan didn’t feel so triumphant. Charz fell to the ground, cradling his ruined arm. The giant was weeping in pain and failure. Justan felt sorry for him. What a miserable existence the giant lived. Justan turned Gwyrtha around and moved to catch up with the others. Had he done the right thing? Perhaps it would have been better if he had killed him after all.

He didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on the giant for long. They reached half way across the river and the water had gotten deeper. Lenny scanned for a safer path to follow, but Fist was fading fast. Justan had to do something. He gripped Gwyrtha’s mane tightly, leaned in close, and asked her to be careful with her movements. He closed his eyes and left his body behind, focusing all his attention on Fist through the bond.

What he saw frightened him. Fist’s clothes were soaked and his temperature was no longer high, but alarmingly low. Whatever Qyxal had done was working. His body had removed much of the alcohol from his blood and the rash was nearly gone, but the positive effects had faded as well. His energy was down and his heartbeat had slowed. Fist’s thoughts were a jumble and it was a struggle for him to put one foot in front of the other.

Justan tried to speak with him, but Fist was in such a trancelike state, that communication was impossible. Instead, Justan headed further into the ogre’s consciousness, pushing the cold and the weariness from his mind and replacing them with feelings of warmth and comfort. He convinced Fist that it was a hot, sunny day and the water wasn’t cold; it was refreshing. On the other side of the river was a picnic. The ogre didn’t understand that concept, but he understood that there would be food and a place to take a nap.

Fist’s steps picked up. A grin crossed his face. He was in a dreaming state now and Justan’s thoughts kept him moving.

He continued to feed these thoughts and emotions to the ogre, but Fist’s body was starting to shut down. The ogre was shivering. Despite the increased movement, his circulation had slowed.

Justan hid these facts from Fist, keeping him moving, but he didn’t know how long the ogre would be able to keep it up. In desperation, Justan reached back through the bond and grasped all the energy he could muster from within his own body. He struggled to bring it back with him through the bond and to his relief, he was able to pull it through.

He began feeding his own energy to the ogre’s failing systems, focusing first on Fist’s heart, getting it pumping faster, then his limbs, feeding his muscles with the energy they needed to keep moving. Fist’s steps picked up and his temperature rose. Justan was encouraged by the development and pushed harder.

Fist suddenly awoke from the trance Justan had placed him in. Justan heard him cry out in alarm both aloud and through the bond, “
Justan!”

I’m here,
he responded. He felt quite tired himself now. He had given a lot of energy to Fist, but that was okay. They could rest on the other side.
It’s okay. Just keep moving. We will be there soon. I am sorry about . . .

Justan couldn’t continue the thought. What had he been saying again? His mind was muddled. Something was pulling at him. He felt his thoughts being dragged back into his own body.

“
Justan!
” This time Gwyrtha’s voice had joined in with Fist’s.

He opened his eyes to darkness. It was cold. He started to gasp in alarm, but realized his mouth was filled with water. He must have slipped from Gwyrtha’s back. He felt rock and mud under his hands and knew he wasn’t too deep, but the current was dragging him away. He wanted to stand, but he was too weak.

He was warm. That was Justan’s first thought. He was warm and covered in blankets in his bed. Though his eyes were closed, he could see the brightness of the morning through his eyelids and considered whether he should get up. His mother would have breakfast ready most likely. His stomach growled at the thought, but the bed felt so good. Surely he could sleep a little longer. He hadn’t slept in a bed in such a long time. Fist was so missing out . . . Fist?

Justan sat up with a start. He was indeed in a bed, though the room was not familiar. It was a small tidy room with a window in one corner. There was a small desk and washbasin in the opposite corner. A chair stood beside the bed and Justan saw that his clothes were folded neatly on top. He pulled the covers aside to find that he was naked.

He wondered who had undressed him. He hoped it had been Lenny or Qyxal. He didn’t need some stranger knowing about the frost rune on his chest or his naming runes. He reached inside his mind to feel the bond. Fist and Gwyrtha were there and both seemed content. Gwyrtha was sleeping and Fist was eating. The ogre noticed his presence and called out to him.

Justan, you are awake!

Fist, are you alright?
he asked.
I am so sorry about what happened. I should never have made you drink that stuff.

It is okay. I am feeling good. Come, eat with us. The food is good.

Justan caught the sense of a table piled with food and people talking. The scent of bacon and freshly baked bread hung heavy in the ogre’s nostrils and his mouth was full of what could only be warm gravy. Justan’s mouth watered. Wherever they were, they were in a much better position than before. Perhaps a farmer had taken them in. Maybe the people here would know how to find Master Coal.

He pulled his clothes off of the chair and as he started to put them on, noticed that they had been cleaned and repaired. Justan dressed quickly. He donned his gloves and felt sad as he looked at the empty sword sheathes. He left them there threw his bow and quiver over his shoulder. Perhaps they could find some replacement swords soon.

When Justan opened the door, he could hear people talking. Outside of the room was a hallway lined with doors on either side. A few of them were open and Justan saw neatly made beds. In the room across from his, a sleepy-eyed man was sitting up having just awoken. When he saw Justan looking, he nodded and yawned. Justan nodded back and walked towards the stairs at the end of the hallway. The smell of food and sound of voices echoed from below.

What kind of place was this, he wondered. Were they at an inn? If so it was a pretty nice one. All the rooms were clean and everything looked well cared for. Where did Lenny get the money to pay for it?

At the bottom of the stairs was a large room with a long table in the center that was loaded with a breakfast feast. Many men and women were gathered around the table laughing and talking. Lenny, Qyxal, and Fist were sitting on the far end speaking with a middle aged man. To Justan’s surprise, no one seemed to be giving the ogre more than a second glance.

Lenny and Qyxal called out to him and Justan walked over to join his friends. He sat down in an empty spot next to Fist. The smell of the food overwhelmed his senses.

“The ogre said you was awake,” Lenny said. “Good to see you up and movin’, again.”

Fist placed a large hand on his back and rumbled through a mouthful of bacon, “Justan, how you feel?”